Klaine Advent 2016
by DaisyisHedwig
Summary: A series of drabbles and one shots based off of one word prompts. Currently rated K, but knowing me that could likely change to an M at some point.
1. Bed

**A/N: To try and stretch my writing muscles that have been ignored and/or uncooperative for over a year now, I have decided to participate in the Klaine Advent challenge. 24 days, 24 words, 24 drabbles. This is where the majority of them will end up, however, if inspiration strikes, one of the drabbles might end up in one of my existing verses, like yesterdays did. If that happens, I'll post the drabble in with the corresponding story. Just do you know, keep an eye out for random drabbles in many of my different series. And hey, maybe this will inspire me to update abandoned fics *fingers crossed***

"I need your help."

Blaine looked up from where he was browsing youtube in the common room to see Kurt standing in front of him, wringing his hands.

"Of course, Kurt, anything you need."

"I need you too help me move my mattress."

Blaine's brow furrowed, "Your…"

"It's disgusting, Blaine. I thought with Dalton being so expensive that a used mattress from them wouldn't be all that bad, but it's horrible. There are… stains. From things I'd rather not picture the old owner doing. I need it gone."

"Okay," Blaine nodded, "want to do it right now?"

"No… it, it has to be tonight."

Blaine blinked at him. "Can I ask why it has to be tonight?"

Kurt huffed, "Because technically I'm not allowed to get rid of it. I asked the Dean but he said it's only two years old and the school only throws them out every five, and stains aren't a good enough reason for it going to the dump early."

"So you want to steal the mattress?"

"I bought a new one, and I'll leave that one here when I leave. They never have to know."

"Unless they decide they want to look back and fondly remember the stains, that is," Blaine teased.

Kurt pursed his lips. "This isn't a joke, Blaine. I could get a disease. Who knows what is lurking on that thing. I haven't had a good night's sleep since I got here, terrified of what might be crawling under the covers. Bed bugs, lice, STD's, who knows."

Blaine rolled his eyes fondly, "Fine, I'll get Jeff and Nick to help us, they know the security's schedule's like the back of their hands."

"Why on earth do the need to know that? They're hall monitors. The epitome of the perfect student, wrapped in a doo wopping duo."

"Let's just say, they might have made some of those dreaded stains," Blaine winked, "Jeff did have your dorm last year."


	2. Charm

**A/N: Sorry I didn't post yesterday, I just didn't have any inspiration, but i did end up having some for today, so yay! Warnings for a D/s dynamic, though it is super gentle in this drabble.**

Blaine was kneeling, his hands clasped firmly behind his back and his head bowed. He waited by the door, his collar tight around his throat and the charm displaying Kurt's name gently rising and falling with his quick breaths. As he waited, and his panic left, his body sagged, exhaustion replacing his anxiety and calm overcoming his stress. He waited.

Kurt's keys jingled quietly in the lock and Blaine focused himself. He rolled his shoulders. Tightened his fists. Raised his chin. And swallowed the last bit of turmoil in his soul from a long, long day of work.

The door swung open gently and Kurt paused momentarily in the doorway before moving fully into the apartment. He hung his jacket and kicked off his shoes before placing a gentle hand on Blaine's head.

"I'm here, pet, you can let go."

And Blaine did.


	3. Dare

**Warning: Underage Drinking**

Blaine had been at McKinley for a little over a month now, and in an effort to not be the social outcast he'd been and Westerville High, had managed to join the Cheerios. Which was great, except that then it meant he got dragged to parties with the football team, and being in a house filled with high school jocks, AKA the human embodiment of toxic masculinity, what not the most calming way to spend a Friday night.

Thankfully he was already a little bit tipsy, which meant anything he did from this point onwards he could totally blame on that fact. Right? Intoxication was a great excuse for staring at Kurt Hummel dazedly and thinking highly inappropriate thoughts about the bulge in his sinfully tight pants. Because, clearly, if he were sober he would not be staring at anyone on the football team like he wanted to eat them alive. That was just a death wish. And Blaine Anderson was smarter than that. Most of the time.

"Yo, drama nerd, you in?" Noah Puckerman's voice forced Blaine to tear his eyes away from the beautiful coif of Kurt's hair and over to a suspiciously forming circle of people on the floor.

"I… yeah, sure, I'm in," he mumbled and stumbled his way over to the group, not sure what he had just agreed to and beginning to admit that he was well on his way to shit faced, if the spinning of the ground was anything to go by. He sat down next to Finn, the only person on the football team that didn't terrify him for one reason of another, and smiled gratefully when he awkwardly steadied him when he started to fall over on him.

"Are we like… playing truth or dare?" he tried to whisper to Finn, and apparently failed when Puck scoffed.

"Of course not, Anderson, we're playing something much better," and he unceremoniously slammed an empty bottle into the middle of the circle, "we're playing too hot!"

Blaine paled, remembering stories Cooper had told him about this game. The main gist was that you were to make out with someone, only lips touching, and the first person to break and pull away or pull the other closer, lost, and was to be the winner's bonafide slave for the rest of the night. And Blaine did not trust himself in his inebriated state to not lose.

"Hummel, you're going first," Puck declared, rolling the bottle over to Kurt, who was still standing on the edge of the circle, looking like he most certainly did not was to play, nor go first. But, with an incredulous roll his eyes he gingerly lowered himself into the circle. He did it so gracefully, Blaine would have thought he was completely sober were it not for his gentle flush and tell tale blown pupils.

Kurt's first spin landed on Brittany, who perked up excitedly before Kurt immediately grabbed the bottle and spun again. Blaine frowned, confused, but Finn leaned over and mumbled, "Mismatching orientations nullifies the spin." Blaine's eyes shot wide open and he turned to stare at Finn in surprise, but Finn was casually rolling the bottle back to Kurt after his second spin landed on him. Blaine was too busy trying to wrap his mind around that fact that Kurt's orientation did match with Brittany's and what that meant since he knew Brittany was Bi, that he didn't even notice when Kurt's third spin landed on him.

A silence fell over the room as Kurt stared expectantly at Blaine, an eyebrow raised in whatever question he had just asked him.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"If you don't feel comfortable making out with another guy, you can opt out, Blaine," Kurt informed him with a gentle smile and Blaine simply blinked because A) Kurt knew his name and more importantly B) _Kurt_ didn't seem to mind the idea of making out with him.

"No," he muttered shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. Kurt nodded, smile faltering a bit at the edges, and reached for the bottle. Blaine's heart stuttered, and he practically flung himself forward to stop him, his hand landing on top of Kurt's over the bottle. "No, no, I meant, I don't mind. I'll do it."

Kurt's grin stretched across his face and Blaine let out a giddy laugh. He honestly didn't even care if he lost anymore.


End file.
